Just A Few Drinks
by LittleMissFangirlReece
Summary: Short Clace story. AU, all mundane. When Clary ends up getting drunk at her best friends eighteenth, will her designated "babysitter" turn out to be more than meets the eye?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My other story, Broken Wings, is on-going! This is just a short Clace story. Hope you like it, I will update tomorrow!**

The party was already in full swing by the time Clary's taxi pulled up. She'd come straight from work, so she'd barely had time to make herself fresh and fabulous for Izzy's eighteenth birthday party - just a slash of red lipstick and a quick change into a little green dress, to make her eyes pop out.

Clary was lucky she'd had the time and energy to do that much, actually. Usually she didn't mind work being busy, but she'd had another eighteenth the night before and was already kind of tired. Still, Izzy was her best friend, so this party was important. Clary would just have to suck it up, especially as she was giving a speech later.

She paid the driver and slipped out of the taxi, shifting her heavy make-up bag on her shoulder.

Clary and Izzy had met two years earlier, when they were both starting year eleven at Alicante High. Their mutual love of coffee and reality TV bonded them immediately. Izzy was the most excitable person Clary had ever met, always filled with enthusiasm for new things, people and ideas. It was hard not to get swept away in Izzy's world once you'd had a taste.

Izzy's father was the French Ambassador to Australia, and Clary always thought the consulate Izzy called home was like something from _Gone With The Wind_: all balconies and climbing roses, with huge elm trees lining the driveway. Tonight the trees were ablaze with lanterns guiding the way inside the party.

As Clary walked up the front steps, she wondered what there'd be to eat inside. She was starving - she'd worked through lunch and her break, trying to stay ahead of the customers who came in for endless advice, consults and makeovers. After work, she'd only had enough time to primp, so her pre-party dinner was just a handful of the mints she used before she did a client's make-up.

A waiter met at her at the door with a silver tray of French champagne. _" Bonsoir, mademoiselle," _he said, handing her a flute.

"_Merci,"_ Clary said, accepting it gratefully. She took a greedy sip.

"Clary! You're here!" Izzy shrieked, appearing from nowhere. She flung her arms around Izzy and the two girls hugged like they hadn't seen each other in months, though Izzy had come into the shop just that afternoon to have her make-up done for the party.

'You look amazing" said Clary, admiring Izzy's silver sequinned dress.

Izzy waved away the compliment, but she was gorgeous and knew it. She always worked everything she had to make all the boys adore her.

Clary took another long sip of her drink and then managed to set the glass down before Izzy dragged her through the house. The party was already in full swing, and Clary was a little dismayed to find the back garden filled with twinkling lights and sparkling conversation and everyone dressed impeccably. The party was perfect for Izzy,of course, but Clary's little green dress now felt a bit boring. She wished she'd changed I to something sexier.

"Go get another drink, and then come dance," said Izzy, gesturing to the dance floor in the centre of the garden. Then she twirled off to join their friends and her family dancing to French pop music under the lanterns.

Clary plastered on a fake smile and grabbed another champagne, drinking it thirstily. A sumptuous buffet was laid out nearby, so she wandered over and ate a few olives from an antipasto platter. She was reaching over for som tiny biscuits when her friends came running over, yelling their greetings. Biscuits and conversation wee not a great combination, so she abandoned them for a few more olives.

Clary wasn't much of a drinker, so she was surprised to discover that her glass was already empty. But then a waiter filled it up again, and she moved about the garden in the warm night air, chatting happily to everyone her earlier tiredness forgotten. Waiters threaded through the crowd with trays of hors d'oeuvres, and Clary managed to eat a few of some delicious pastry and salmon affair. The champagne flowed as though a magical alcoholic genie were in charge of the drinks. The wine was delicious, crisp and tart, perfectly matched with the French nibbles.

As she gripped her fourth -or was it fifth? - glass, Clary realised she was drunk.

Seriously drunk.

She'd been at the party less than an hour and she was already off her face. _God, what an idiot, _she thought as she stumbled up the stone steps to the terrace, where Izzy was talking to some guy and giggling.

"Clary, are you okay?" Izzy asked as Clary bumped past her, trying to get to the bathroom. If only the world would stop spinning, she thought, then she could stand up straight...

The pair stepped out of the way and Clary fled inside, skidding on the parquetry floor as she opened the door to the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and heaved up every little thing she had eaten that evening.

Izzy rushed in behind her and rubbed her back. " Oh, Clary, did you eat today?" She admonished.

Clary shook her head as she threw up again. "I'm so sorry, Iz," she moaned into the echoey toilet bowl.

" You know you have to eat, you cannot handle it." Izzy said sadly.

"I know, I'm sorry," Clary said, as much to the scarred toilet as to Izzy. " Oh god, what am I going to do about your speech?"

Clary started retching into the bowl again, and Izzy laughed good-naturedly. She stroked Clary's hair. " Don't worry, don't worry. You can give me your speech another time."

Finally, Clary sat up straight and looked pathetically at Izzy, who had thankfully closed the door.

"I'm so, so sorry," Clary said, tears filling her eyes. " I'm the worst best friend ever. I should go home."

" You can't go home like this," Izzy said, tucking Clary's hair firmly behind her hair ears. " Stay here until you sober up and then I will have you driven home." Then she left the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

Clary felt nausea rising again and turned back to the toilet. She puked.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: sorry for the long wait guys, but Jace is introduced in this chapter!**

When Clary finally looked up, there was a guy standing in the doorway. He was watching her as though she was the most disgusting person he'd ever seen, which was exactly how Clary felt.

" Can't you see I'm busy?" Clary said weakly. She gestured to the toilet filled with her vomit, three up digested olives floating in it like a morality martini.

" Izzy told me I have to look after you." He said, giving her a stern look. She noticed his accent was French.

"Don't judge me," Clary slurred. "I didn't eat and I drank too fast. I never do this." She moaned, clutching the bowl as the room started spinning again. "Well, not very often."

" Whatever you say." He said, closing the door and walking over.

Clary lay down on the bathroom floor and heard the toilet flush a moment later. "Thanks." She said, feeling he cold tiles on her hot face. She could see his shoes as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. They were nice shoes: leather, but not like old man shoes.

" You don't have to stick around." She said, closing her eyes.

" Yes, I do," he said. " I promised Izzy."

They lapsed into silence. Clary was lying there, mortified, when there was a knock at the door. The nice-not-old-man shoes walked over and opened it.

"_Attendez une minute," _he told someone. Then he walked back to Clary, lifted her up and carried her gently out of the bathroom.

" Kind of early for being that pissed, isn't it?" She hears an Australian voice ask.

" She's on antibiotics," said the guy. "So keep your judgement to yourself."

Clary smiled just a little as he carried her up the hallway of the house. "I'm not on antibiotics. You lied," she accused him, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I know," he said, pushing open the screen door with his foot. " I'm saving your reputation."

" So gallant," said Clary, snuggling her face into his shoulder. "You're my knight in nice shoes.

" And you're drunk," he answered as he laid her on the outdoor sofa. "Lie here and I'll get you a glass of water."

Clary just waved her hand at him. She tried to say," As you were, Monsieur Nice Shies," but her mouth was being all weird. Instead, she drifted off into a drunken doze.

* * *

Jace watched her sleep. Then he checked his phone. He got a drink for himself and told some people who were about to take photos of Clary - who was drooling in her sleep - to fuck off. Then he checked his phone again. Played some Angry Birds. Checked Facebook. Got another drink.

When Izzy had asked him to look after Clary, he'd taken one look and known he didn't have a choice. Girls in that state shouldn't be left alone. He'd actually noticed Clary when she'd arrived, anyway. At first he'd thought she was different to most girls, mostly because she wasn't wearing a dress so short you didn't have to imagine anything. This is what girls didn't get, he thought as he put his feet on the chair in front of him. Short dresses were like spoilers for a movie you really want to see. What was left to discover?

Clary wasn't fat and she wasn't thin, he thought, she just seemed like a girl. A girl who'd made a bad choice when she skipped dinner before coming to the party.

Jace checked his phone again. It was only 10 o'clock. He thought about calling his parents in France, but then converted the time and realised they'd be at work. He'd rather wait to tell them he wasn't coming home for another year, anyway, and he knew they'd rather be told while they were in a private room so they could yell at him.

He considered heading back inside, but he didn't really know any of Izzy's friends. He didn't feel like talking to his family all night, either - they'd only ask him what his plans were. He had no idea what he was going to do from one moment to the next, but right now he was content to sit outside and wait for Clary to wake up.

Her eyes were flickering, like she was possessed. Maybe she was a horror movie waiting to be revealed. She certainly had the spewing mastered. Then she rolled over, falling off of the sofa and onto the wooden decking.

" Owwww," she moaned, rubbing her shoulder.

Jace lent forward. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him blearily, her heavy make-up smeared under her eyes. She still seemed unwell, but slightly less drunk than an hour ago. She shook her head. "That hurt."

" It will hurt tomorrow," he said. "Probably bruise also."

" Thanks for the heads up." She said wearily. Turning on her back, she lay on the deck and put her arms over her eyes. "What time is it?" She asked, her voice husky.

" Ten." He answered.

"Ten? Christ, what a lightweight I am. This is why I don't drink very often." She said.

Jace raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

She rolled into a sitting position and looked up at him. "I'm Clary," she said. "I'm Izzy's bestie and part-time idiot."

" I know. I'm Jace," he answered. "Izzy's cousin and part-time guardian of the idiots."

They smiled at each other.


End file.
